Monday, July 11

BARCELONA

Aubrey was sweating.

Maybe because it was hot outside. Or maybe because the streets were jam-packed—young people in skimpy summer clothes escaping their humid apartments, carrying drinks, and milling around the sidewalk with friends.

Aubrey and Rae were by the university now, and according to Rae’s phone, the apartment was only a few minutes away. Aubrey wished she’d thought to put her contacts back in. She wished she’d brought a hairbrush or some deodorant in her purse.

“This must be it,” Rae said. They’d reached a building with an arched stained-glass window above the front door.

Aubrey checked the number beside it. “Yeah,” she said. “Must be.”

Rae pressed a button, and the intercom buzzed. But Aubrey was staring up at all the windows, trying to guess which one Gabe was behind, trying to imagine what he was doing right this second—if he was wondering who had just buzzed up, if he was staring at his phone and asking himself why she hadn’t texted yet.

Or maybe he’d forgotten all about her. Maybe he didn’t care where she was.

“Dude.” Rae held the door open for her. “You look so pale. You’re not going to faint or anything, are you?”

“No.” Aubrey stepped inside. The door shut behind her, and the street noise extinguished like a snuffed-out candle. “At least, I don’t think so.”

It was dark in the lobby, and their eyes took a few seconds to adjust. Low lightbulbs droned above. There was a blue, black, and orange mosaic printed on the floor and burnished gold mailboxes built into the walls. In front of them, Aubrey saw an old-fashioned elevator, its copper gears coated in dust. Rae touched the grated door. “This looks kind of—antique.”

“You mean death-trappy,” Aubrey said. “We should take the stairs.”

They looped around landing after landing, past walls with a pattern of roses and vines on them, vines that seemed to grow after Aubrey and Rae.

“Did Clara say who was here?” Aubrey asked.

“No. But she told me we should come over fast.”

“They must be bored,” Aubrey said. “It’s probably just Jonah, Clara, and Gabe sitting with Zaida and her roommates. They probably don’t have anything to say to each other.” Her head felt like it was swimming. Every floor brought her a little closer to Gabe—a little closer to seeing him again, a little closer to being in the exact same room.

“We’ll need to liven things up,” Rae said. “We’ll have to be the entertainment.” One floor above them, a couple emerged from an apartment, speaking to each other in a mix of Spanish and English. Hipster rock music poured out after them, the song ringing all the way down the stairwell. Rae lifted an eyebrow at Aubrey. “Then again, maybe not.”

The apartment itself was brighter and a lot louder than the rest of the building. The furnishings were simple but nice: a coral couch with a quilt thrown over its back, a beat-up leather armchair with a few split seams along the sides, and old movie posters hanging on the walls. But beyond that, the only thing Aubrey saw were people. They overwhelmed every inch of the room. They flicked cigarette ash out the window and huddled near the iPhone dock debating music choices.

Clara emerged from behind a boy wearing a Salvador Dalí T-shirt. “Aubrey! Rae!” She held a plastic tumbler over her head. “Zaida threw us a party!”

“I can see that,” Aubrey said.

“Three parties in one week.” Rae took the tumbler from Clara and had a drink. “Not bad for a bunch of theater nerds.”

Aubrey worried one end of her glasses. She tried to take stock of everyone in the apartment and noticed Jonah in a far corner, talking to a girl with a flower crown in her hair. When he caught sight of Aubrey, he lifted one hand in a static wave. She lifted her hand, too. They probably wouldn’t talk tonight, but still. It felt important to acknowledge him.

“You came with Rae!” Clara said in Aubrey’s ear.

“She talked me into it,” Aubrey said.

Clara radiated delight. Rae said something to her that Aubrey couldn’t make out, and Clara whispered something back. Now that Aubrey could see them like this, she was amazed it had never occurred to her that they should be together. Had she really never noticed how much Rae smiled when Clara was around?

“Hey!” Clara shouted at someone behind Aubrey. “Look who I found!”

Instantly, Aubrey’s insides turned over; her hands went cold. The entire party seemed to muffle, like Aubrey was hearing it from the other side of a wall. He was here. He was only a few inches away from her.

“Glad you made it,” Zaida said, joining their circle.

Zaida.

Not Gabe.

“Hi,” Aubrey said. The pressure inside her fizzled to nothing. “This is a great party.”

“Thanks.” Zaida sipped from her beer bottle. She wore an orange maxi dress and long, dangly gold earrings. Although she was shorter than Gabe, she definitely looked like she was related to him. She had the same heart-shaped face and the same dimples when she smiled. “Honestly though,” she said, “I have no idea who half these people are. My roommates have too many friends.”

A guy jumped onto the couch, pumping both his fists in the air. “We’re going to get more alcohol!” he shouted, and the room erupted in cheers.

“Roommate?” Rae asked.

“Roommate’s boyfriend,” Zaida said. “But yeah, basically a roommate at this point.”

The crowd flowed around them. Aubrey felt like there were marbles tipping and scattering in her stomach. Ask her, she thought. Just ask Zaida where Gabe is.

“So, where’s Gabe?” Clara asked.

Thank God, Aubrey thought. Who was she kidding? She would never have been able to do it herself.

“He’s probably on the roof,” Zaida said.

“The roof?” Aubrey said. “Why would he be there? Isn’t it dangerous?”

“There’s a garden up there.” Zaida yawned and flicked her hair, making her earrings shimmer. “My little brother can fake being an extrovert when he has to, but the kid needs his alone time.”

Rae’s gaze locked with Aubrey’s.

“So,” Zaida said, “do you want a drink?”

“No!” Aubrey cried. And then she dialed it down a notch. “Um. No thanks. I just, I need to go. For a minute. I think I dropped my phone on the stairs.”

She turned and darted back into the hallway, where she stood beneath a light fixture and wondered how the hell to get to the roof. Music vibrated through the hall. “Up,” she said out loud to herself. “Duh, Aubrey. Roofs are up.” She thumped up the stairs to the top floor. The ceiling was low here, and there were no apartment doors, only a single metal one wedged partially open with a heavy book. Aubrey held her hand up to the door’s gap.

She could feel the air outside.

Footsteps headed toward her, and Aubrey got out of the way as a girl and two guys shoved through the door. One of the guys had a cigarette behind his ear. The girl accidentally stepped out of her flip-flops and paused to slide them back on, calling after the guys to wait. Even after they’d left, Aubrey could hear their voices drifting all the way to the lobby. She turned back around, and the door was still wide open.

Because Gabe was holding it.

Oxygen filled her lungs. A gust of wind blew right past them, pushing her hair into her eyes. She held it back with one hand.

“What are you doing here?” they asked at the same time.

She flushed. He did, too.

“Zaida told me about the roof,” she said. “She mentioned there was a garden?”

“Yeah, see for yourself.” Gabe moved out of the way so she could come outside with him. They climbed one more set of stairs together, and when they reached the top, Aubrey found herself surrounded by ceramic pots, all of them overgrown with small trees and purple flowers and vines that climbed over low walls circling the edges. Twinkle lights had been strung through some of the trees, and a crescent moon hovered in the sky, gossamer clouds slipping across it.

This didn’t seem real. It didn’t seem like a place that could exist among so many buildings and boulevards. Aubrey felt like she’d fallen through a portal. Like they were somewhere no one else would be able to find them.

“Why didn’t your sister have the party up here?” she asked, stunned.

Gabe sat down on a blue-and-white lounger. “It’s an exposed concrete square six floors above the ground. Probably not the best place for people to get drunk.”

“Fair point.” Aubrey walked over to one of the walls. She could see the iridescent city below in every direction—its busy skyline and speeding headlights, its miniature café umbrellas and dark, distant hills. The sound of passing cars and music kept carrying up toward them.

“It feels like the whole city is throwing the same party,” she said. “Do you think it’s always like this here?”

“It’s a nice night and the middle of summer,” he said. “People are enjoying it.”

Aubrey maneuvered between the plants to sit on the lounger across from his. The plastic strips bit into her legs. Gabe had his hands linked between his knees. His shirt was neon pink, and his shorts were dark, striated denim.

“You look extra hipster tonight,” she said.

“I am dressed for a party.”

“Which you convinced your sister to throw for us.”

“Well.” He shrugged. “I pulled the few strings I have.”

She sat forward. “Your sister and all your best friends are downstairs. Everyone in Barcelona is out having the time of their lives, and you’re avoiding all of it.”

“Bryce.” He sat forward as well. “What are you doing here?”

“Gabe,” she said, “I…” And here it was: the part where she wanted to bail. The part where she wanted to start a new conversation so she wouldn’t have to find out where they would go from here. So she wouldn’t have to say how she felt and risk her heart on someone who was leaving so soon.

But even though she was scared, she also knew she had to do this. It should have felt precarious, sitting like this, balancing on a platform above a city that was a blanket of lights. But for once, Aubrey felt steady. She felt certain. “I’m here to see you,” she said.

His expression was unreadable. Whatever he thought of her, she couldn’t figure it out. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I already understand.”

“Wait. Understand what?”

“What you’re about to tell me. About how I can’t get in your way.”

Now it was her turn to be baffled. “Gabe. What are you talking about?”

His shoulders hunched. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? I can’t get in the way of you moving on from Jonah. I can’t get in the way of you going to New York and starting your life. I refuse to be that guy, okay? You clearly want time to deal with the stuff that’s been happening, and I’m not going to be some shitty dude who demands you give all your attention to me.”

A breeze picked up, carrying with it the scent of flowers. “Is that why you didn’t talk to me today?” she asked.

“You wanted me to leave you alone. I could tell.”

She sat on the very edge of the lounger. “No, that’s not it. I did need some time, but not because I wanted to get away from you. I was just—terrified. Of how this summer is going to end soon. Of how close I am to losing you and Rae and—everything. I’d never thought of my life without all of you in it. I’d done everything I could not to have to face that.”

“But you’re facing it now?”

“I think so,” she said. “I’m trying, anyway. And this is what I’m starting to realize: Maybe I can’t have things exactly the way they are now, but I can still have them. I can go to Columbia and I can still talk to Rae. I can still talk to you.” Her courage fumbled. She focused above her, on the shape of the moon. “Especially you.”

A beat of silence. “Why especially me?”

“Because. I think I’m in love with you.”

Gabe went quiet again. So quiet that she could hear his inhales and exhales. So quiet that she thought maybe, this time, she’d lost him for sure.

And then he crossed the distance separating their chairs, and he kissed her.

They stood together, the sudden breeze growing stronger. It snagged at their hair and their clothes. Aubrey was on her tiptoes to reach his mouth; he ducked down to meet hers. And in that moment, with the noisy city beneath them, it really did feel like the entire world was celebrating. Like the atmosphere fizzed with champagne. When they finally broke apart, she was shaking.

“Is that an I love you back?” she asked. “I just want to be clear. For the record. For—historical purposes.”

“It was an I love you back.” He kissed the corner of her lips. “It was a this could be the start of something, right?” He trailed his fingers down her back, sending a line of sparks down her spine.

Making understanding wash through her.

Making everything clear.

Maybe she was about to lose a hundred things—things she was always going to lose, things she couldn’t help. But she was gaining a thousand more—things she couldn’t even begin to guess.

And she didn’t want to guess yet. The possibilities were there, and they were all she needed. They were enough.

“This could be the start of something.” She pulled his mouth to hers again. “Right.”